


A Shepherd's Crook, a Stag's Antlers, a Queen's Crown, and a Lady's Fan

by Moonrose91



Series: Three Hundred Years of Being Forgotten (Mostly) [20]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, Session
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Session of the Seasons is being called.</p><p>Oh joy of joys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shepherd's Crook, a Stag's Antlers, a Queen's Crown, and a Lady's Fan

Jack touched down with a slight stumble and brushed snow from his shoulders. “About time Frost,” May stated and Jack gave her a look from across the compass.

“You try shepherding winter on your own,” Jack shot back.

Summer winced and gave an apology, but Jack waved her off with a grin, leaning on his staff while Chyou looked over at him. “Do you need to borrow some of my aides?” she questioned, but Jack shook his head.

Most were asleep during the winter and he already knew that they wouldn’t be able to help anyway. “I’m all right Chyou, thank you,” he answered, knowing that she was still searching for a way to repay her ‘debt’ to him.

He did not get it.

At all.

He just went with it because trying to tell her that he was fine and that there was no debt to repay was like telling a mountain to step to the side.

It would not budge, and neither would she.

He huffed and let his hair fly out of his eyes while the other three looked at each other nervously.

Spring, somehow more awake then last time, floated over to him and eyed him concern. He leaned away from her hand and shook his head at her. “Nu-uh. No touching me. I don’t want to be known as the Winter Spirit who killed the Spring Spirit,” he stated and she laughed at him before she flitted back, and then she asked about the Easter Bunny, of all things.

“No, I haven’t met him yet,” he answered and Spring shook her head a bit.

She said something, but Jack didn’t catch it, though it caused May to snicker into her hand.

Both Chyou and Jack exchanged a long-suffering look.

It was amazing that after only an eye blink of time (for the other Seasons) that they had bonded so fast.

They couldn’t touch, which was why the group mainly communicated with looks.

Jack had a habit of giving people frostnip when they held onto him for too long while May had a habit of drying people’s skins out to the point of it cracking and bleeding. Autumn’s nails have a habit of biting into skin whenever she touches someone (Jack can attest to that) and Spring sometimes makes flowers grow over whoever she is touching.

They embody the season they take care of. They hold it within them and direct it where it needs to go.

This affects them greatly, and Jack knows that time will allow him to be less dangerous to people on the whole, but other Seasonal Spirits will always be people he cannot touch.

It leaves a rather bitter taste in Jack’s mouth when he thinks about it, so he tries not to.

“I just hope this one is faster. I don’t think I can handle another three day session,” Jack stated and May nodded in agreement.

Chyou shifted in her saddle, before she leaned forward to gaze at Jack. “Are you sure you are quite fine Jack?” she questioned.

Jack nodded and then balanced up on his staff, grinning a bit as the other three shared a look, even as Spring began to make flowers bloom along her stag’s antlers.

Jack grinned at the fact they were all white and May shook her head in exasperation at Spring before she added a leaf presented to her by her helper (a lithe male who looked like he was a type of sprite or something out of a fairytale) to her crown.

“Do they always do this?” Jack asked Chyou, who began to fiddle with her fan.

“Yes,” Chyou responded, earning the Spirits of Autumn and Winter a look of irritation from the Spirit of Summer.

Before either could snap back a response, Mother Nature was before them.

Jack _really_ hoped this didn’t take three days.

* * *

Jack let out a sigh of relief as he sunk into the golden cloud and Sandman, he was sure, was looking at him in concern, but Jack’s eyes were closed and he was not opening them for anything short of the end of the world and even then he might keep them closed.

“Why is it that the simplest of things takes four days to discuss?” Jack asked, finally forcing his eyes open when he remembered that Sandman couldn’t talk.

He got a shrug in return.

“Thanks Sandman, _that’s_ helpful,” Jack muttered.

He was sure Sandman was laughing a little at him.

Jack found he didn’t mind.

He would probably find himself laughing at the situation after he had some sleep.

It had been a very, _very_ long week.

**Author's Note:**

> While I feel bad about not writing Jack and the other Seasons bonding, at the same time, most of it happened because of magic (Jack's magic, actually, because I was originally going to write a scene where it is the middle of Autumn/Spring and Jack started a game between the four of them, but I couldn't decide _what_ game and ended up not writing it because I realized I would have to make one up and, at the time, I was far too exhausted).
> 
> However, beyond Jack's magic, they naturally form close bonds because they _have_ to.
> 
> They _have_ to have each others' backs.
> 
> And they know this, just like Jack knows where to go for winter and what to do where (it isn't _always_ on a whim).
> 
> Why is this so?
> 
> Spoilers.


End file.
